A quartet in a cave - Tuckingtons side of the adventure
by Yuhi-san
Summary: Tucker sees some strange acting soldiers and decides to follow them and drag Grif along. Thanks to their karma they – along with Simmons and Wash – end up stuck in a cave. Finding a way out of a cave with people who probably want them dead is one thing. But as usual, they turn this in a real challenge. So let's hope this ends better than it starts.
1. Tucker and Grif up for investigation

**Authors Note:** This story is based on 'Never Ever that Hung Over again'. This is my version of this event. **AlaskaMcCormick** and I design the story together and I write Tucker and Washs side of it while she does Grif and Simmons.  
Therefore her and my fanfiction tell the same story but from two points of view. Also, since it is not role play based (as I decide for both, Tucker and Wash) my story misses the Grif-Simmons-only-interactions.  
To really get the whole picture you need to read **AlaskaMcCormicks** version as well.

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**Chapter 1: Tucker and Grif up for Investigation. Or something like that**

Tucker was glad, to say the least. Well, sure it was great they stopped the war on Chorus and everyone again survived miraculously. But they faced still yet another war way over their head and even despite the celebration and the peace talk and all, rebels and feds often still were hostile to each other. Tucker didn't think anymore working with the enemy was hard. Seriously.

The party the other day had been great too. Simmons and Grif managed t o become an actual thing after years of acting like married. Tucker had been wasted enough to approach Wash but well, that only ended with him getting a blue eye.

The good thing was that Grey finally agreed that Tucker was completely back to health again.

…

Which, on a second thought, wasn't so great because he was convinced Wash was going to drill him again. Fuck it.

Well, at least he wasn't that useless anymore. Church needed to shut up about that. Ever since Carolina, Kimball and Doyle were running the army of Chorus things seemed to get an order again. Wash however was mostly in charge of kicking everyones ass in training. Probably because he wasn't as quick to going to kill someone as Carolina.

Tucker was on his way back from the infirmary towards the trainings area when he caught sight of a small group of Feds talking near an old building. They were troublemaker. Not everyone was going along well with the ceasefire and the peace talks. These few actually had been involved in a few brawls within these days. One of them broke Palamos nose the other day (not that Tucker cared, not at all.) Tucker couldn't really say what it was but he had a really bad feeling about them. So when they started to walk off through some ally, he quickly followed them. It worked pretty good to follow them until he came across the door from the mess hall. There he literally run into something solid. Or more like wobbly. "Man, what the fuck, Grif, watch it" he snapped at the older.

Grif only grimaced, standing there with his arms full of ore, chips and other stuff he just stole. "I'm heavily laded dude, I can go first." He ignored the glare Tucker shot him and added, "Besides, what does a runt like you wanna do about a rock, huh?" Tucker shot him another glare while he carelessly shoved chips into his mouth. "You ain't a rock, you are a fatso" the younger returned and just caught the soldiers disappear around a corner. Fuck it, what now?

_Try to do what you think is best_, Wash said.

So Tucker did what he thought was best: making sure he knew where this guys headed. "C'mon", he said shortly and grabbed Grifs upper arm, dragging him with him. At least for one thing Wash training was good for. Grif complained first but he gave up eventually, apparently coming to the point that it wasn't worth it and that Tucker was by far stronger than he actually looked like. "What the heck are we actually doing?" he questioned with his arms still loaded with food and coke. "Investigation", replied Tucker quietly. He did his best to follow the soldiers through allies without being noticed.

Unfortunately, at one point they reached the cliffs outside the city and Tucker saw how the guys disappeared in a cave. Well, if that wasn't suspicious. Tucker still tried to follow them while keeping a low profile. He eventually reached the entrance of the cave and that was when Grif stopped. Or more like froze up. "Okay, great. They are in a cave. So we know that. Can we turn around now? You know, slip it to someone what is going on."

Tucker rolled his eyes. He knew Grif was scared as shit from bats. He knew a lot about the guy. But he didn't really care though. "And let them go away? I want to fucking know what they are up to." Before the orange soldier had time to retreat more than two steps, Tucker again grabbed his upper arm and dragged him along. He ignored how Grif swallowed and looked around uneasily. That guy was more a pussy than any of the chicks Tucker knew. Worse than Donut even. Following some guys to see what they were doing really wasn't anything they couldn't handle.

Tucker and Grif followed the Feds deeper into the cave, always careful not to be seen. Or at least Tucker was. Grif only toddled after him with his arms filled with food and trying to be quiet so not to alert any bats that might be around. Tucker suspected him to be more afraid of those than the Feds. Already after a short time Tucker noticed that the radio didn't work anymore. And he and Grif had about the same idea on why that was. They were blocking the frequencies for some reason. And whatever the reason was it couldn't be anything good, Tucker knew it. But to follow these guys wasn't easy. Especially not when he and Grif couldn't use the flood lights. The Feds hardly talked and so it was hard to know where they went at each fork because they had to stay back enough so not to get spotted.

Tucker didn't think about how dangerous it was to go deeper and deeper into the cave without being able to contact anyone. But he couldn't go back now. Maybe this was important.

However, it came as it had to come. At some point they lost track of the Feds. Tucker bit his lips absently while he and Grif walked through a hallway. He knew they were lost. But he didn't quite want to admit it. He didn't want to have screwed it up again. "Hey Tucker" Grif said after a while.

"Yeah?"

"We are lost, right?"

"No, were not", Tucker replied and kept walking straight. Just stay cool and confident. Sure Tucker knew Grif knew they were lost. It wasn't hard to miss and also, you know, their charm and all that shit. But before Grif had the time to say something there were explosions going off somewhere. Tucker and Grif both stopped in their tracks, slowly turning to face each other. There was silence for a few heartbeats before more explosions followed. And as much as Tucker and Grif were alike in many things they were very different in what they did now. While Grif stumbled back and away from the sound, Tucker found himself quickly walking towards the direction the noise came from. It sounded as if it was quite a bit away from them but even here Tucker felt the ground shake as he hurried forward and turned on the flood lights anyway. But he noticed Grif wasn't coming so he turned around. "Hurry up, dude!" the younger snapped. He needed to know what just happened there. But Grif stared at him as if he grew a second head. "Are you crazy!? If something explodes it's best to run away, not right to it!"

Oh really, why had Grif to be such a pussy? "Okay, fine, then go deeper into the cave to the mutated bats. I mean, with all the radioactive stuff I wouldn't be surprised if they were man-sized by now." That definitely did the trick. Tucker could have sworn that he saw Grif turn white even behind the visor before the guy suddenly hurried to catch up wit Tucker. "Alright I'm coming!"

Grinning self-satisfied Tucker broke into a light jogging and headed through the tunnels where he still heard things crash down. No explosions anymore though.

However it wasn't long until Tucker had to slow down. First of all he thought Grif was going to collapse right away and second the reached a fork again and there was no longer any sound telling them where to go to. Grif behind him wheezed. "What now genius?" the older managed to get out somehow. Tucker was up for a snarky comment because fuck it, he didn't need Grif nagging on him on top of everything. He was stopped however from a high-pitched, very familiar voice coming from one of the tunnels.

"Oh god, oh god, oh god…"

Once again Tucker and Grif stared at each other. "Simmons!", they yelled in union before running down the tunnel. Or more like Tucker jogging easily and Grif staggering after him. "Dude, your condition is the fucking worst I ever seen", Tucker said, going so far as to run backwards a few steps. "I think I'll convince Wash to make you run laps too."

"Up… yours!" Grif gasped. He really looked hilarious with the arms full of snack and actually trying to run away from bats and towards Simmons. The maroon soldier luckily seemed to have a broken record as he kept repeating these two words non stop.

"I know I said I wasn't picky but no thank you. And I was serious, you know. Mighty also help your condition I bed."

"My condition there is fine!" The glare Grif shot him was almost impressive considering the condition he was in.

"Yeah, because you don't do much since Simmons is topping you all the time."

"Shut up!" Grif gasped again angrily.

"You know, with some training you could maybe top him too without crushing him."

"I said shut up or I'm gonna kill you!"

That actually made Tucker snort a laughter. "First you have to catch me." Just to make a point the teal soldier made sure to get even more room between him and a staggering Grif.

"Just you wait, asshole!"

Tucker was about to make another comment, despite the fact they were in a pretty fucked up situation. Doing that was also part of their charm. But Simmons sounded close and his 'oh god' mantra also kinda changed a little. He now literally was whining and begging for Grif to help.

Okay, so. As annoying and cheesy Tucker found it that Grif and Simmons were glued together for real as of lately, _that_ had him worried now. They reached finally the end of the tunnel and came into a bigger cave. Tucker remembered that they walked through this one. And he was pretty sure the opposite end of the cave had also a tunnel. But there were only debris laying now. Just when Grif caught up his eyes fell on Simmons who was hugging his knees and repeating his mantra over and over again.

"Fuck, really?" What the hell would bring Simmons here? Tucker exhaled before heading quickly over to the maroon soldier, closely followed by Grif. Only when he moved closer Tucker saw a second form laying behind Simmons. Dark armor. Yellow accents.

_Oh god, please let it only be a standard freakout from Simmons._

* * *

**Authors Note:** And that's how the whole shit starts...


	2. Wash, Simmons and a whole lot of shaking

**Authors Note:** Why wont the link fucking work? Anyway, this is shortly what happened to Wash and Simmons. But it makes more sense if you read **AlaskaMcCormicks** counterpart of the chapter.

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**Chapter 2: Wash, Simmons and a whole lot of shaking**

It had never been easy or calm back during the project. There were always missions, training and so on. But somehow, Wash got more of rest back then than he did now. It was just typical. Things finally got… normal again. As far as they could around them. But no, it had to be messed up around them. Either it was Tucker making a dirty pass at him after the party or two of them disappearing.

At least they all were slowly making something with their potential. Simmons managed a – for his standards – passable seminar early today and also Tucker matured a lot since what happened. Asides from the fact that he was really obtrusive lately and his innuendos got even worse.

So when Simmons came to him because Grif was lost he didn't really worry. He first though Simmons was just overreacting because he was mostly glued to Grif now. More than before. But when Tucker also didn't answer the radio, it got Wash worried. Since the younger developed some sense of responsibility it was unlikely for him to not answer. So he agreed to go look for them. Who knew if they weren't in shit already again?

It turned out to be not that hard to track them. Because Grif was the only one running around everywhere with food.

He really felt like in the fairytale with Hansel and Gretel.

They soon reached a cave and Wash was about to just go in when Simmons spoke up, already on the edge of panicking. "But, but the trace is going to the cave!"

"Yeah, so?"

"There are snakes in it! For sure! And I'm afraid of snakes!"

Wash again exhaled, this time a bit more unnerved. "Listen Simmons. I'm going in there. If you want to follow me, you have to make up your mind pretty fast. Either your worry about Grif is stronger than the fear of snakes or you'll forget it and go to wait for your boyfriend in your sleeping room." He said as calm as possible. He had no nerves to deal with irrational fears right now. Last time he dealt with something like that he had two cracked rips because Maine threw a table after him and the nurse with the syringe. Wash felt his chest tighten but ignored it. He didn't have the nerves for that either.

"Okay, I'm coming with you" Simmons agreed then. "Okay. Let's go"

The two entered the cave and Wash slowly walked ahead and followed the chips and Oreos laying around. Wash was walking slowly through the dark cave. Luckily enough they had flood lights attached to their shoulder pieces of armor. So they at least saw a few feet ahead. Simmons was right behind him, following him with an aura of nervousness. Not that Wash was feeling all too easy himself. He really had a bad feeling about this. And despite what Tucker used to say it wasn't because he was paranoid. He just knew better. Washs eyes scanned the ground for more of Grifs eatable clues. But the two didn't make it far before they heard a dull bang somewhere behind them. "Uh, Wash? What was that?" asked Simmons nervously.

Fuck.

Experience from years in battle kicked in right away with Wash. "Run!" he shout at the younger soldier and already dashed down, deeper into the cave. Simmons was on his heels and yelping. "Why? Where to!?"

"Just run!"

As if on cue more explosions got off, each a little closer to them. "Oh shit, oh shit, oh shit!" Wash and Simmons were running as fast as they could. The Freelancer had absolutely no idea on how Simmons still could be yelling now. All he did was focus on where he run. The ground and walls were shaking and pieces of the celling were falling down around them. An almost man sized rock crashed down in front of Wash, almost burying him under it. Wash barely avoided this with slithering to a halt. Simmons almost run him over though. "We gonna die!" Wash shoved Simmons to the side and around the rock. "Keep running!" He urged and shoved him. Both stumbled further, unable to really run straight with everything shaking and breaking down around them.

Washington felt how some rocks hit him but luckily the armor protected them well. He saw how a huge crack appeared in the ceiling above them and he leaped from the hallway inside a higher cave, covering his head. Simmons for his part more stumbled in and landed flat on his belly, covering his head reflexively.

The whole cave still seemed to shake but slowly everything went back to normal. Asides form Wash and Simmons pulse. The Freelancer still heard the rushing sound in his ears, felt his heart beat like crazy. His arms shook slightly as he pushed himself up as soon as everything went quiet. That probably was the adrenalin rushing through his veins. "Shit" he muttered as he stood again. He looked over to Simmons who managed a wobbly stand as well.

"Simmons, are you okay?" he asked the maroon soldier. Simmons nodded slowly. "I-I think… at least I'm still alive, I guess." He answered slowly.

"What about you?" Wash took a few deep breaths, steadying himself. "I'm fine", he answered as a matter of routine and carefully and distantly touched his hand against his neck.

Pain shot through Wash body like a current impulse the moment his gloved fingertips brushed against the scars in his neck. A rock must have hit him and tore open the fabric from his bodysuit. Wash flinched and cursed mentally because it _hurt_ like a bitch. He blinked as tears stung in his eyes.

_Oh god, if it hurt that bad…_ what if the neural implant was damaged? It was mostly covered by the helmet but still. It was something that gave Wash still the creeps. He brushed his fingers over the old and new scar again, another shrug of pain and black spots appearing in his vision. He was sure he felt something wet.

_Oh_ fuck. Oh fuck. He's bleeding. And it _hurts_.

Wash hears Simmons say something but he just pressed his fingers harder against his neck, trying to feel how much damage was done without realizing that he was making it far worse than it was. And before Wash knew it there was an even worse shrug of blinding pain and everything went black.


	3. Let's do what we do best

**_Chapter 3: Let's do what we do best_**

_Oh god, please let it only be a standard freakout from Simmons. _That was the first thing Tucker thought.

"Holy shit, what happened to you guys?" Tucker managed while sounding halfway composed. Simmons head snapped up immediately. "Thank god, Grif!" the cyborg exclaimed as the orange soldier knelt next to him, barely having time to put down his stuff before Simmons almost literally threw himself at his lover. "We were looking for you and followed you inside the cave where shit suddenly exploded" the tallest among them babbled.

"Wa-what happened to Wash?" Tucker asked, surprised at how fucking calm he sounded while he approached the Freelancer that lay motionless on his side. "He is knocked out" informed Simmons the teal soldier right away. "I think something hit him in the neck when everything collapsed. He... kind of knocked himself out though by pressing his fingers in the wounds."

Somehow Tucker had been unable to think Wash would be killed by something so simple. Yet, he was fucking relieved that he knew the guy was just knocked out. While Grif got lectured by Simmons, Tucker knelt next to Wash, trying to get a better look at his neck. You didn't see much as it was smeared with drying blood. But from all Tucker could tell it wasn't bleeding too much. Fuck, he didn't know any shit about first aid. Let alone have anything with him.

Tucker bit his bottom lip in worry. Not like he actually had much of a clue about these scars. But he knew they were a sensitive spot from Wash. Mentally and physically. Fuck.

Okay, focus on what to do. Keep your calm. Do something about the wound.

He turned to Simmons and Grif. "Hey, yeah, sorry to interrupt your lovers quarrel but does one of you have Biofoam with you?"

For Simmons it seemed to be a welcome change of topic as he moved away from Grif "I have some." While Simmons moved over Tucker carefully removed Washs helmet. If he didn't collapse right away after the hit then it meant his spine was mostly likely intact. Probably. Tucker turned Wash slightly so Simmons could apply the Biofoam. The Freelancers body was slack asides from his face that scrunched up in pain when the wound was touched. But his breath was slow and steady. That probably was good. "How is he doing?" Gris asked then and Tucker sighed. "He will be fine. He's just unconscious. The injury isn't that bad." At least he hoped he was right about it. Tuckers medical knowledge probably was as bad as Doc's.

Carefully Tucker lay Wash back on his side before he took out his helmet and put it on the ground between them. Simmons and Grif sat at a wall opposite to them and Tucker sighed mentally. Wash really had some bad karma. Fuck. Tucker hoped he was okay and would wake up soon. He was sure he heard once that a flash of overwhelming pain could knock you out momentarily. Hopefully that was true and the case.

The teal soldier titled his head back with a frustrated sigh and starred at the ceiling. Great. So they lost track of the Feds. And they were still in here and probably would kill them if they suspected that he and the others had any clue. Simmons and Wash had followed them and Wash was knocked out and maybe injured. The exit was sealed and they had no way to radio anyone in here. And on top of all this was Tuckers fault. He shouldn't have gone after them in the cave. Or at least turn around when they noticed the radio didn't work anymore. Fuck it. He probably was still pretty horrible whit making decisions. Well, that's why he already had allowed Church to take lead back in Blood Gulch. Church was an asshole and a lousy shot but he wasn't that bad as a leader.

Tuckers attention soon was brought back to Simmons and Grif who were snuggled together and talking quietly. Gross.

So yeah Tucker was the last one to be a prudent probably on the whole planed. And maybe he was even a little tiny bit happy for the two but really. This was getting gross. Simmons and Grif were so sickeningly sweet that Tucker was sure he was going to get caries from just watching. So whatever the fuck he and Wash had – or not for that matter – was better than that.

"Ugh... guys I think I liked you better as an old bickering couple than as freshly in love teenager."

"Shut up" answered both reds in union and Tucker snorted. Yeah, that. So they were stuck here because the exit was sealed and they couldn't really go anywhere in the first place since Wash was unconscious. Until the Freelancer came to, all they could do was wait. And Wash probably would have a batter idea on what to do than Tucker could come up with. Or Grif or Simmons for that matter.

"No really, I think I'll get a sugar shock or caries."

"Then don't look", replied Grif who still held Simmons close. Tucker rolled his eyes. "Yeah like there is much more around in this fucking cave."

Grif shrugged. "You can look at Wash."

Tucker couldn't help but stare stupidly at the orange soldier. "I think Wash needs your attention or am I wrong?"

Tucker still was staring but then he blinked a few times. "Erm…" he said then slowly. "Dude, I think you didn't mean it the way it just came across." Tucker could have sworn that it wasn't just Grif this time who smirked. "I totally meant it like that." Again Tucker was staring at Grif who grinned like an ass. Simmons buried his face in the others neck as if to hide it from Tucker. The teal soldier then caught himself again and shot them a glare. "Dude, what the fuck?"

Tucker sure got what Grif meant. But what he didn't understand was how he came to say that. The teal soldier sat next to the still unconscious Freelancer. He had his leg stretched out in front of him and gave the two others a dirty look while bracing his weight on the hands behind his back. It wasn't like he or Wash acted different at all. Heck, it wasn't even really like something was going on between them. Since they made out after the party and Tucker got a black eye from the Freelancer nothing much changed. It happened occasionally that they slept on the same bed and maybe Wash was a little more relaxed when they were alone. But asides from that? Nothing.

They didn't cuddle in bed or anything and a kiss once or twice was about everything that happened so far.

Every innuendo was either ignored or quashed as before and pretty much every physical approach from Tuckers side was blocked. And if Wash was blocking that was about the same thing as if Tucker tried to run against a wall.

"Man you're stupid Tucker. And I thought you were actually kind of smart."

"You are stupid, asshole. You misunderstand something here." Grunted the youngest. But when Grifs grin grew more and more, he just knew he was screwed. Tucker narrowed his eyes at him. "What?" he asked harsher than he intended.

"Oh, I know why you got the black eye the other day" Grif said in a voice that held a very mean and evil tone. Tucker opened and closed his mouth a few times. Then, "How?" That was the best he managed. He saw Grif grin cockily and heard Simmons snort against his neck, though the maroon soldier looked up curiously too.

"Lets say I kept him company while got wasted. It was hilarious, really. Especially how straight he was about the fact that he was planning to hit the bottle because he was majorly pissed about you trying to jump on his bones."

That was it. The whole situation was so fucked up and had been such a failure that even Tucker felt his face heat up. Oh fucking god, why would Wash tell Grif this!? Sure he was kinda drunken but still!?

"Holy shit he told you that!?" Tucker blurted and for once his voice cracked a little too. "Why!?" He thought it was impossible but Grif grinned even more. "I asked him." He said and as Tucker was staring with his mouth open he added. "Funny how honest the guy sometimes is, huh?"

_Oh god,_ Tucker thought._ I wanna die._

"Come on, it's really obvious what was up between you the night after the party. It's just the question what you are intending to achieve with your behavior. Wash obviously was as clueless as I am." Tucker knew he was so gonna kill Grif instead of dying himself. At least he thought that after he managed to get his derailed face back under control. This was just great! Why had Grif to know about that? And what was that about the nonsense about something being up between him and Wash? There was nothing! Which, in Tuckers case, kind of was the problem.

"Well…" he said uncertainly because yeah… what was he supposed to answer to that?

"If you don't know it yourself better make up your mind."

_Fuck you dude! _

"How am I supposed to make up my mind when not knowing what Wash is thinking?!" That was the best Tucker could come up with. And it was even halfway the truth. He had no clue what Wash was thinking half of the time. Or most of the time, really. Wash was so complicated and contradictory it was almost impossible to understand him. Tucker knew how to deal with Wash in certain situations or understood what specific reactions meant. But he had never really a clue what was on the guys mind.

And more than that he couldn't really say the truth about his motives to Grif.

_Well, see I'm a ball of sexual frustration and Wash is actually really hot and I definitely need to get laid again. Would probably do some good to him, too, to have something else up his ass instead of a stick for a chance. _

Yeah, no way he could say that because he wasn't going to hear the end of it. Also, yeah, fine, Wash was important to him. He cared about the Freelancer a lot. He liked him when he wasn't being a total dick. But when Tucker looked at Grif and Simmons he thought: Nope, absolutely not what he wanted from Wash.

Speaking of the devil, the guy had the perfect timing to save Tucker when he suddenly shifted with a low groan. "Hey Wash?" The teal soldier asked as he leaned over the Freelancer. He groaned again and even only half conscious he tried to reach for his neck and Tucker quickly held his hand down. "Woah, don't touch the neck, dude!"

Grif and Simmons came over to check on them but then left again for their corner. Great. It took Wash a couple of minutes until he actually managed to blink his eyes open with an incoherent sound. "Ah… shit…" the blonde man muttered and tried to push himself up. Tucker reached out but then hesitated. Well, touching or even holding down Wash when he wasn't fully aware of his surroundings had proved to be a very unhealthy idea in the past. "Careful or you knock yourself out again" grumbled the younger a bit unsure. Man, Wash probably should keep laying. But no, the guy did always stuff normal people wouldn't. Fucking idiot. When Wash managed to sit halfway upright, he looked at Tucker. He was blinking as if to clear his vision and his Eyes were somewhat unfocussed. Hopefully no concussion. "Tucker?"

"Uh, yeah, great to see your brain still works." The younger said at loss of something smart. Even with an expression of confusion and pain in his face Wash actually manages to give him a dirty look. "Uh... how's the neck?" Tucker tried to change the topic.

"It hurts" Wash replied in a voice that said clearly _obviously_. Tucker winces but only until Wash reaches for his neck again. "Don't do that", the younger snapped harsher than he intended and grabbed Washs arm. He felt the man tense but relax then. "Dude, digging your fingers into a wound ain't healthy. And it freaks people out. Not just me. Simmons and Grif too." Tucker pointed over to the two and Wash followed his pointing, looked at the two and then back at Tucker. He's still blinking way too much but his eyes were clearer than before. He clenched his fist a few times.

"You okay Wash?" Tucker asked as he noticed it.

"Do you know what a reflex is, Tucker?"

"Uh… yeah. The sort of thing you do on your own without being able to help about it. Like when my hand sneaks down every-"

"What I say is that I have to surpass touching the injurie, okay?" Wash cut in. "What you said is called neurotic. Or maybe chronic in your case." Oh great. That Wash couldn't relax or take it easy was nothing new. But that the guy had to be pert even now. "Asshole", Tucker said.

Wash closed his eyes and exhaled slowly. He swayed even in his sitting position and so the teal soldier reached out to put a hand on his back and steady him. His hand lay between Wash shoulder blades and the older squinted at him first. But he closed his eyes then, taking a few minutes to just sit there and breathe calmly. He probably was collecting himself. Tucker knew he always made sure he was composed before he did something.

"Why did you go inside the cave anyway?" Wash asked then quietly.

"Yeah about that… Remember the Feds that were picking fight all the time? Well, I saw them sneaking off here and followed them with Grif." Tucker felt how Wash immediately stiffened at that. He snapped his eyes open and looked at the sealed entrance, then at Simmons and Grif before his eyes fixed on Tucker.

"How many?"


	4. Let's get moving

**Chapter 4: Let's get moving, Freak out about snakes and take a rest**

"How many?"

"Uh…" Tucker said nervously. "Eight I think."

Wash still couldn't focus fully but he exhaled. Not so softly this time. "Fuck" he said and shifted to stand up. "Woah, Wash, take it easy", Tucker started but Wash ignored him as he stood. He swayed again but then managed to stay halfway straight. "Tucker, do you know in how much trouble we are?" the Freelancer asked. "You follow these men in here and after I and Simmons enter, too, things explode and the exit gets sealed. Why do you think that is?"

"Huh? Ah, to make sure no one else follows them?" Considering Wash gave him the meanest look he did in a while that was the wrong answer. Tucker thought again. And when realization settled in he kinda felt sick.

"Because they don't want us to escape."

Simmons and Grif seemed to have gotten curious and walked over to them again. Wash nodded slowly but then twisted his face in pain. He reached for his neck again but stopped himself. Instead he gripped his shoulder piece.

"What's going on?" Simmons asked nervously.

"It was definitely not an accident that the exit collapsed. These people knew we are in here. And I say we better get moving before they show up" Wash explained simply. He made an attempt to pick up his helmet but stopped right away. He swayed more again as he looked down.

While Grif and Simmons exchanged looks, Tucker snorted and picked up his and Wash helmet. He handed the blonde his gray one. "Yeah, sure. You can't even really stand straight in case you haven't notice, genius."

Wash took his helmet and even while he couldn't stand all that steady he could still glare at Tucker. "Which is preciously why I don't want to stick around for them to find us."

Tucker paused and bit his lips.

"We should look for another exit", Wash continued. "Were also not as much of an easy target in a tunnel."

Washington was used to have many different impressions in his head at one time. Having an A.I in your head tended to do that. Even if Epsilon had been implanted into him only for a short time. He still had an extra set of memory after all.

Right now he was experiencing an aching head and neck and slight dizziness. He probably had a mild concussion.

He was feeling unsettled and much more about the situation. Stuck in a cave, Simmons afraid of snakes and at least eight Feds somewhere looking for them. If they really were just Feds acting up it would be one thing. But what if pirates were among them? Or more of them in here? Motion tracker and radio didn't work either. No one knew where they were. There were a lot of other things that made this fucked up but really, nothing he could help now.

The trick was to set priorities. First, try not to be found because they didn't stand good chances to win a fight. Second, find a way out. Everything else could wait for later. It proved to be a good system for Wash during the last years.

So he them to get moving.

_**ooo**_

He knew he had been a little harsh. But they had to see this was serious. And his head and neck really hurt. He also knew Tucker was frustrated. But being frustrated didn't help you, he needed to learn that.

Wash wasn't sure how long he led them through this labyrinth. He usually had a good feeling for how much time passed, though. Whenever they reached a fork, he let Simmons decide in the hope his cyborg ear world maybe hear something. Slim chance but the best they had. Wash had also no clue how far they walked or at that point from which direction they came. Normally he would remember that too. One of the few good things from having Epsilon. But the concussion made it hard enough to focus at the matter of hand. His head hurt and he was tired. Fuck it. But complaining wasn't going to help them either.

So they kept walking quietly through the tunnels. Well, quietly for their standards. They kicked stones by walking and sometimes Grif or Tucker would hiss insults when they didn't pay attention and walked against or fell over something.

Asides from Grif almost freaking out when Tucker kicked a bigger stone. Gosh. Was that guy going to freak out in here, too?

They didn't make it much further when they suddenly heard a loud growling sound. Oh, don't tell me… Wash and Simmons turned around to stare at Grif just like Tucker already did. The orange soldiers stomach growled again.

"Grif" Wash said in an accusing tone just the moment Simmons and Tucker did too. "What? I'm hungry! Isn't that obvious?" questioned the Hawaiian and crossed his arms in an offended manner. Tucker snorted. "I think you said you were prepared for bad times?"

Wash frowned and he knew it really wasn't the moment for this. But somehow he ended up saying what came to his mind either way. "I think he really looks like he will starve within a few hours." Though Washs voice had been plain the statement had been sarcastic. Grif was one of the few people who actually picked up on that each time. Now he glared at the Freelancer but he just turned around beckoning them to keep walking. "Let's keep going."

_**ooo**_

They walk quite some time again. Like before they come to an incredible number of forks and each time Simmons decides where to go. At some point, they again come from a tunnel into a cave. It was a little bigger than the first one. It's dark though and here Wash turns on the floodlights to look around. The other three did the same. It was a round cave and first Wash thought they were in a dead end.

While the other three were looking around and started to argue, Wash focused on finding something. Another way out. Or soldiers that could be hidden. But he didn't find anything. His muscles were tense and aching because of it. Damn it. If these Feds were somewhere or would find them they were in trouble.

Before Wash had time to think more about it he caught sight of another tunnel. It was about two or three yards over the ground. The entrance was sure big enough that even Grif could fit easily. He saw enough ledge that he was sure they could climb that bit without trouble. Wash went over to the wall and groped the stone. Felt solid.

"For the last time, Grif, there are no bats!"

Simmons voice brought Wash attention back to his three friends. As much as they got on his nerves most of the time, that was still what they were. He groaned with annoyance. Really, what were they doing again?

Grif and Simmons were closely standing to each other and Grif was literally clinging to Simmons arm. They both had the light directed up and Tucker stood opposite to them, laughing. "Dude, you are really scared as shit from bats? I mean, seriously Grif? There are other things in her that are more dangerous. You know, like snaked. I mean they can kill you with poison and shit."

Wash could see how Simmons turned into a pillar of salt right away. Oh boy. He had a very bad feeling about how this would be going down. Wash walked slowly over to them while Simmons stepped backwards. He looked around hectically. "Snakes? Where are snakes?" he asked in his nervous, way too high pitched voice. He stumbled over a stone and almost fell on his but. But Wash reached out and gripped his shoulder from behind to steady the maroon soldier. It probably wasn't the best idea. Simmons jumped incredible high with a yelp and spun around.

Maybe it was the exhaustion or the concussion or maybe Wash just was too careless around them. Either way he reacted too slow and suddenly felt Simmons elbow protector hit right under his chin. The force of the impact made Wash neck snap to the side and he felt an incredible flash of pain first from his chin, then from his neck. The Freelancer hissed and twisted his face in pain. Fuck that hurt. Blinking the black spots from his vision he reminded himself to only touch the hurting chin but not his neck. Even though the pain was stronger there. Shit, he hoped the sudden movement didn't reopen the wound. Somewhere afar he heard Grif shout and Tucker laugh.

Asshole.

Wash probably should be more on guard around these guys again. It wasn't like he didn't trust them… well, okay, he didn't trust them. But not because he thought they wanted to hurt him. Only because he knew they were going to hurt him because they were fucking idiots. When the pain slowly faded, Wash looked down at Simmons. He fell on his butt and moved back against a wall. He covered his head with his arms and tried to squeeze in a crack there. Wash made a face. His jaw hurt. But he approached Simmons either way. "Calm down, Simmons, here are no snakes around." The Freelancer crouched down in front of him and talked patiently as if speaking with Caboose. But Simmons only stared at him like a deer caught in the headlights. Oh. Uh. That was bad.

"Okay, look. Even if snakes are around, they can't harm you in the power armor" Wash tried again but that also made Simmons panic more. Oh fuck. He wasn't good with that. Never had been, not even in the project. Back then he used to be the one to freak out most often. And his friends weren't much of a help. York had laughed when he literally dragged him in the trainings area after he refused to spare with Carolina the very first time. Because he was damn scared of her after he saw her beat up Maine. Or when he doubted he could make the first jump out of the fucking Pelican. Even Connie had been smiling and just pushed-

Stop, stop, stop. He couldn't go there yet. Back to the priorities. Where the fuck was Grif? "Hey", he called over his shoulder to Grif and Tucker who were bickering at that point. They didn't listen. "Shut up you two!" Wash snapped then harsher than intended. But they did shut up and stare at him. "Grif, move over here", the oldest ordered. "Simmons is… uh, completely out of it."

Sure Grif complained and insulted him but at least he came over.

Wash moved out of the way to give Grif and Simmons some privacy after he convinced the orange soldier that Simons wasn't just freaking out.

Ignoring his insult, Wash exhaled loudly. That was fucking great. Simmons having a panic attack was really the last thing they needed. And the panic attack was pretty bad, considering his lack of response and how he was shaking like crazy and starring ahead. Wash couldn't really blame him, though. It wasn't like you could just not panic so easily. Also, he knew very well what such an attack felt like. It was nothing you would ever forget, like riding a bicycle. But at least the feelings from a panic attack were fading to a mere memory for Wash by now.

The Freelancer brushed his fingers over his neck, though this time very carefully. The foam covering the wound felt alright, though it stung slightly. Wash brought his attention back to Tucker who watched Simmons and Grif closely. "Tucker", he said and the teal soldier turned towards him, though he looked away from Wash quickly. "Look", he said already with a defensive tone. "I knew Simmons was afraid of snakes. I just kinda forgot it, okay? And I didn't know he would freak out like that." It wasn't what Wash intended to say but in favor of peace he would ignore this statement.

"In case you are going to freak out about something like that too, I'd like to know that now." He said instead.

Tucker crossed his arms and titled his head while he thought about the answer. "I probably would freak out about someone wanting to eat me. You know, a huge alien or something", he said and Wash shot him a glare. He did not have the nerve right now. "You should be able to handle that. Your child is an alien", Wash replied before turning towards the two reds. Simmons was clinging to Grif but slowly calming down. "It seems rather save here. We should probably take a rest", Wash said then to Tucker. They couldn't keep going like that. They were all exhausted, him included. But even so the Freelancer didn't plan on sleeping.

"I'm going to take watch."

Tucker again titled his head though this time in more mocking manner. "Shouldn't the hurt guys rest?" he asked and it sounded like a challenge. Wash scowled at him. "I'm probably having a mild concussion. That's something you should actually stay alert with."

Asides from that Tucker knew very well that Wash still was dealing with sleeping issues at times. And that it was either way very unlikely to get decent sleep now. Or any sleep at all. Tucker made a face, clearly showing that he didn't like this. He didn't argue, however. Wash suspected him to mouth off half of the time just for the very reason of doing so. However, right now he seemed not to think it was worth the effort.

A clicking sound behind them indicated that Grif took off the helmet and put it to the ground. Wash turned to face them and he saw that Simmons already was dozing off. With a sigh he approached the two. "We stay here. I'll take over the watch." The Freelancer informed them shortly. He checked his gun and cocked it before he went over to the entrance. He pretended to ignore Tuckers gaze on his back while he sat down next to the entrance. If anyone entered he would notice but they wouldn't see him right away.

"I already thought that you would say that. On the other hand, we wouldn't have been able to move on. After a panic attack, Simmons is always tired as hell and not really able walk long distances."

Wash shot Grif a glare. First, this was partially his fault for not taking it serious. If he had to stick to Simmons all the time he should really at least take care of his boyfriend. And asides from that Wash knew very well how incredible weary you felt after panic attacks. From Grifs statement he took that the orange soldier used to freak out a lot but never had a real panic attack like that. "Okay, I know it was my fault. I'm sorry. But we can't change the situation at hand. So let's make the best of it, okay?"

In favor of not picking fights because they were already enough in shit and he was tired and worried and his head was fucking killing him, Wash let the comment and the glare pass.


	5. A man-to-man talk

**Chapter 5: A man-to-man talk**

Tucker huffed in frustration because everything at the moment was fucking bullshit as he turned away and walked over to Grif and Simmons on the other side of the cave. He took off his helmet on the way and dropped it to the ground as he sat down next to the cuddling couple. Fucking. Bullshit.

Wash was being unapproachable again and didn't listen to him at all. Tucker hated it. Even though he knew Wash was unlikely to sleep anyway. But trying to persuade Wash was pretty much impossible. He appeared ready to compromise but that went only as far as he decided he was willing to go. If he actually was unwilling to go with something, he fuckin did what he wanted. He was driving Tucker crazy, more and more lately.

The teal soldier turned out his floodlight and titled his head back against the stone wall while staring into the darkness. His eyes adjusted after a while enough to see schemes, but that was it. He heard Simmons and Grifs even breath. He always thought it was bullshit that you could tell from someone's breathing if he was sleeping or not. But by now he was actually able to tell that Simmons was fast asleep but Grif was only resting but still awake. Maybe that came from sharing a room and sometimes the bed with Wash?

"Dude, you are going to be attached at the hip if you keep that up", Tucker muttered then. It was probably a weak try but a try nonetheless to start one of Grif and his casual bickering-chats.

"You're jealous? wanna have some, too?" Answered Grif a bit snarky.

"Dude, no! I don't want any of Simmons" Tucker answered right away. "Or you. Though you sure have enough for three or so." It was far too dark to see Grifs expression. But Tucker didn't need to see to know the other was starring at him before he snorted in amusement. "I'm not talking about me or Simmons" he said almost gleefully. "How about other opportunities? Like Wash?"

It was official. Tucker fucking hated Grif. "Okay, seriously, cut it" the youngest among them snapped. "I was drunken. Like really fucking blasted. And then I had this stupid idea of going after Wash. Which ended with him punching me _right in the face_, if you remember. So stop suggesting that stuff." The whole situation was pissing Tucker of and causing him to act aggressively defensive.

It wasn't so simple. Okay Wash punched him hard. But he didn't do it right away. And he later came from himself to sleep with Tucker in one bed. Then again whenever Tucker attempted to get physical with him he would kick him out, shove him away or slam a door in his face. And at the same time he apparently didn't mind it to sleep in one bed with Tucker.

If he wouldn't know better, he would think Wash simply had a dislike for sexual intimacy. But Tucker was sure this was not the case. So it just meant the guy never made any fucking sense.

"A punch in the face doesn't necessarily mean that you have to stop. Just... changing your way of doing it." At that moment, Tucker was very convinced that Grif needed a punch in the face, too. "Ugh. Fair point", he grumbled then and turned his face away. "But either way, he fucking blocks every try right away." Tucker complained in a low voice, not even realizing he admitted that it wasn't fully a drunken thing that he was going for Wash.

"If you try it the way I think you do I totally understand Wash, pal. You probably are lucky he didn't break you some bones at that point." Tucker knew Grif grinned and so he growled in return. Because the guy was fucking right. Though the teal soldier was also fairly sure Wash sometimes considered the option of breaking bones.

Tucker sunk down on the wall with a huff. "So you say I'm the problem?"

To his surprise, Grif calmly denied. "No. But you probably do it the wrong way. " With his mood sinking, Tucker slid down the wall further. "You seem to know", he said dryly. "And how would I be supposed to do it? I'm just like that, fuck it."

"Well, perhaps you're doing it too fast. That could be one possibility. Or the other that you could ask before you do something." Great, that one Tucker figured out too.

"And you suspect me to ask every time if I want to kiss him or something?" he questioned because that sounded like a horrible idea. Because Grif probably wasn't aware how snarky Wash could be if he just wanted to.

"Yeah, at least at the beginning. It is possible that Wash is unsure because he never had something with a man. He needs time to get used to it."

"And about how much time are we talking?" Tucker asked because Grif probably didn't know that Wash was _really_ _fucking slow _with interpersonal stuff.

"That is something only Wash could tell you. Try to talk to him. Open and honest. Tell him what you think and ask him why he's avoiding it." Tucker groaned quietly and drew his legs close, putting his forehead on his knees. Well if it was so simple. But he couldn't even try to talk honestly if he didn't really knew what the actually wanted. He was kinda confused about that. He just knew he did not really want what Grif and Simmons had. Also it wasn't like Wash generally avoided any contact or closeness. He sort of agreed to whatever they had and at the evening in their room, he didn't seem to mind Tucker when he was close. But as soon as they were outside every attempt to anything from Tuckers side was blocked right away.

"And if it is because of me?" That was the logical conclusion. And it was fucking frustrating. If Wash minded that much he might have said fucking no right away.

"Poppycock! If he would have he would have told you to stop it already at the beginning. But did Wash so? I don't think." Tucker snorted. Well, Grif didn't know Wash didn't block quite all approaches. "Look, you know how Wash gets when he hasn't the control?"

The teal soldier rolled his eyes. "Yeah, witnessed it often enough." And it was horrible because the guy was a fucking control freak most of the time.

"Well, that could be exactly the problem. When you're coming on him like you did before, he doesn't have the control. And that makes him freak out and push you away." Tucker glanced at Grifs form skeptically. "It could be a possibility and the best explanation for your situation. So how about starting it, but letting him define the speed and the way you're doing it?"

The teal soldier actually considered that. He knew Wash disliked it if things didn't go the way he wanted. Then again, Tucker didn't try to force him. And they both knew very well he wouldn't even have a chance. He huffed in defeat.

"I am just like that; I'm no patient or empathetic guy." What did they think why the fuck he was good at getting guys and girls but horrible at keeping them?

"Me neither Tucker. But I had to learn it. So you'll have to do that too. And believe me, Simmons need a lot of patience and caring some times. Wash's nothing against that."

Tucker huffed again. That almost made Grif sound wise. Except for one thing. He had no fucking clue on how complicated it was with Wash, especially if you managed to get more personal with him for a chance. Tucker snorted. "Wise-ass. Are you growing up or something?" he returned only to have said something smart mouthed again. "And you know Simmons since basic. That's for-fucking-ever. You know everything about him. I don't really know anything about Wash at all."

Again Grif shrugged with his free shoulder "Why don't you try to understand him for once instead of just go in head first?"

"I didn't mean I don't understand him", Tucker said, though that also was the case half of the time. "I mean that I don't know anything about Wash."

"Gosh, Tucker, then how about trying to get to know him?" This time the teal soldier could almost hear Grif roll his eyes. But he felt just as irritated. "You think that's so easy?"

"I never said that", Grif said and when Tucker growled he just continued. "I have my problems with Simmons too. Just because you know someone for years, that doesn't mean that you really know him. It changed since we are together. I need to get to know him new. That's almost the same situation like you are in. And Simmons isn't easy, believe me."

For a moment there was silence and Tucker lifted his head to look at Grif, unsure what to answer. But he wondered since when Grif managed to sound smart while being a wise-ass. "Okay", he said then. "I think I see your point, dude. And I know nerds aren't easy. But there is a difference." Tucker gestured vaguely with his hands. "Simmons actually talks to you. Wash doesn't. He doesn't wants me, or anyone else for that matter, to know anything. He only talks to Carolina at best. I mean, I really don't know anything. What he did before the project, why he joined or just what he did in spare time or anything. He doesn't even tell me exactly how old he is. Only that he's the oldest among us, except for Sarge." Tucker explained, getting more and more frustrated. "Man, I don't even know his _name_."

After that, Grif was quiet for a while. Tucker put his head back on his knees. Man he was fucking tired. "Okay, I see you have an actual problem at hand", Grif said finally and Tucker groaned. "That's what I'm trying to tell you the whole time!" he shout, not caring whether or not it would be loud enough to wake Simmons up.

The cyborg shifted slightly and grumbled but didn't wake up as Grif whispered some words in his ear. Tucker rolled his eyes and moved away from the wall to lay down. Trying to get comfortable. "Fuck it, I'm gonna sleep."

_**ooo**_

Wash really couldn't decide if he was mortally embarrassed or pissed as hell. Asides from the many reasons why their situation was really bad, Tucker and Grif managed to make everything worse. They talked in low voices on the other side of the cave. But clearly it didn't occurred to them that in the death silence here Wash was still perfectly able to understand every single word. And it was impossible not to listen.

Really, Wash had no idea how he got to this point in live. But it was fucking embarrassing, overhearing Tucker and Grif talk about his and Tuckers current... relationship. Somewhere in the back of his mind Wash wondered how this would sound to the Feds if they were closing in on them. Gosh, he could feel his cheeks turning red.

It was embarrassing, to put it mildly. But Wash focused on the entrance and pretended to hear nothing. He figured he was better off that way. Jesus, just why did they talk about that now? He should have known it was a horrible mistake to tell Grif about Tuckers attempt when he was drunken.

Asides from feeling really awkward, Wash was also pissed about it for two reasons. Grif actually was right about some things he said. He was kind of unsure about this and Tuckers way of trying was fucking horrible. But if there was one thing Wash really hated it was if people were psychoanalyzing him and his behavior.

As longer as the conversation was going on, as more Wash wanted to tell them to shut the fuck up. He didn't want Grif to put his nose in this. He didn't want him to analyze it and he didn't want Tucker to be even more frustrated than he was anyway. He didn't want to hear them point out that he indeed avoided giving a lot personal information.

Luckily at some point Tucker shout at Grif and almost made Simmons wake up.

Somehow the discussion was over then and Tucker went to sleep.

Wash sighed mentally. His head ached. He was tired.

But now that it was quiet it was a bit better. It made it easier to focus. But there were also less things to help him stay awake. Actually, it was too quiet. But Wash managed. He learned to stay alert even when exhausted or in pain. Something that just stuck with you over years of military. Unless you were a sim trooper. He could hear Grif snore peacefully and also Simmons and Tucker seemed out like a light.

Wash was used to little sleep so he was fairly sure he would be alright. He really just hoped they would get out of here soon and in one piece.

_**ooo**_

After three or four hours of nothing but silence and time to think, Tuckers form on the other side moved and he sat up. Wash watched him curiously until he saw him getting up and walking over. In all the honesty, with the memory of Tucker and Grifs conversation earlier, Wash wasn't really sure if he wanted to have a conversation with the teal soldier right now.

"Hey Wash? You asleep?" He asked in a low voice.

"I still think this is a very mindless question, Tucker."

The teal soldier rolled his eyes before he sat down on the wall next to Wash. Jus like usual they sat close, but their shoulders barely not touching. Wash had his legs bent and his arms lazily over it. He was listening closely though and the gun in his hand was ready. After a while of actually comfortable silence Tucker spoke up. "How is your head and neck?" he kept his voice low so not to wake the other two up. Wash shrugged and leaned his head back against the cold stone.

"I'll live", he said. His head ached and he was still a little dizzy but it was slightly better. He was probably lucky again. Sort of.

"Yeah, you always do, you cockroach." Tucker said with a snort.

"Why are you awake anyway?" The Freelancer wondered without looking at his friend. Ignoring the comment that wasn't quit an insult but far from a compliment either.

"Huh, I can't sleep well without my pillow. Let alone in this fucking armor. I need some freedom, you know what I mean?"

"I know." Wash returned in a very unpleased tone.

Tucker called him prudent because of this. But Wash was very convinced that it was absolutely normal to feel distraught when another guy was openly presenting his morning glory each single, fucking day to the world. Their current change in relationship really didn't help there. Quite the contrary.

"So I figured I could help with the watch, you know. In case you get tired."

Wash huffed at that. He felt a little grateful for it, actually. Because he was tired. But that didn't mean sleep came easy on him. Tucker knew that. He closed his eyes either way, relaxing a little to the silence that settled in. But after a while, Tucker spook up again. "Can I ask you something?"

"If you ask for my name or my age again I'm gonna make sure Palamo runs laps with you after we get out here."

"Dude, that's _harsh_" Tucker almost squealed and Wash had to fight down a grin. "But it's kinda about that. I mean, the getting out of here thing. You really think we make it out o the shit I brought us in?" Wash cracked an eye open but closed it with a mental sigh after he caught sight of Tucker. The teal soldier hugged his legs and had his chin rested on his knees.

"Probably." Answered Wash lowly. He didn't feel like he could put up with that sort of thing at the moment. "It would be a little ironic if we get killed here after what we went through already."

This time it was Tucker that huffed and fell silent. But Wash really thought could manage that. So far they weren't off that bad. Probably. Well, it could be worse. Maybe.

The next about two hors Washington spent dozing. It was easier when you knew it didn't matter if you actually fell asleep. Sometimes he was more awake, sometimes more asleep. It wasn't restful but better than nothing. He drew his legs closer and crossed his arms on his knees, resting his head on it. Unlike the other he was still wearing his helmet.

At some point Simmons and Grif seemed to wake up again. Wash could hear a pair of steps coming toward them. "Hey, Tucker? You guys asleep?" That was Simmons who whispered.

"Sure dude, because I always sleep with my eyes open." Tucker replied dryly. Then, "Man… that really _is_ a mindless question."

"Oh, shut up and let my eyes get used to the dark."

Wash hadn't bothered so far to move at all. He was still really fucking tired. He heard another set of steps. Grif. "Oh, look who went for cuddles", he said in a somewhat mocking way. Honestly, Wash kind of loved these guys – in an amicable way. But sometimes he hated them in that way. Right now it was the later.

"Shut up." Wash heard Tucker say and from the low voice he used Wash was sure he pointed at him right now. He just hoped they didn't say more weird things while they thought he was sleeping and didn't hear them.

"Oh, you don't want him to hear your little secret?"

"Shut up. I don' have a secret. I just don't want you to wake him up." Oh, who would have thought?

"Actually I'm pretty sure Wash is awake" Grif pointed out after a short pause. "Wait, really?"

Now Wash shifted slightly and lifted his head. "Yeah. Kind of hard to sleep with you guys talking around me." He smirked under his helmet when he saw how Tucker made a face. "Can we pretend that didn't just happen?" Tucker asked and Grif and Simmons laughed. "Nothing to be ashamed about, Mr-tough-guy" Wash returned flatly. _The conversation before was worse_.

Wash got up and stretched his sore limbs. He felt a bit better than before. With a careful touch he examined his neck and decided that it was probably alright. While he put his pistol back to the holster he noticed Simmons questioning look. "So… what do we do now?"

Wash turned on the floodlight of his armor again and pointed over to the tunnel he discovered earlier. "Since everyone is up and fine again, we will do some climbing."

Next to Wash Tucker got up too and flashed Grif a shit eating grin. "I'd like to see you fatass climb."

That was when something weird happened. And by that Wash meant weird in their standards. Grif was starring at Tucker and suddenly he said, "A fucking Oreo."

"What?"

"Uh. What?"

"Wait… What?"

Everyone stared at Grif in confusion until the orange soldier spun around to grip his boyfriends shoulder and to shake him slightly. "Simmons! Tell me you see the huge Oreo too!"


	6. quite some physical challenges

**Authors Note: **Again, this doesn't make sense without **AlaskaMcCormicks** part because the 'very confusing Oreo-scenario' is only described in her part.

* * *

**Chapter 6: quite some physical challenges**

After the indeed very confusing Oreo-scenario Wash was left wondering if he should categorize this as weird or amusing. In the end Simmons got Grif back under control and Tucker ended up a little anxious instead of nibbled off. But Tucker was still bigmouthed and Grif had really horrible manners. Either way Wash got them back on track because it really was time they would get out of here.

Considering Grif probably did as well in climbing as he did in running, Wash sent Tucker up first to help him. It really wasn't that high. Maybe four yards. Even if one of them fell, with the power armor that would hurt a little at best.

While Tucker went to pick up his helmet and started climbing, Wash went over to Simmons. "What was that show? Did Grif just want to freak Tucker out or was he really thinking that he is an Oreo?" Wash really couldn't help but ask which one was the case. Because with Grif, he was convinced both was possible.

"Well, I guess Grif had hallucinations because of hunger. If you look at Tucker. Black guy, white teeth. If you're hungry enough you'll see an Oreo. And Grif could get really unbearable if he's hungry, believe me" Explained Simmons and Wash grunted. So Grif really wanted to eat him. Because he looked like an Oreo. Wash was sure he would never see an Oreo in Tucker. At least he hoped so.

"Hey Was! Come over and help me! I never get that guy up alone"

With a sig the Freelancer went over and swiftly climbed up as well so to help Grif in case he needed it. Which already was in the half of the way. "You're fucking kidding me guys. I'm going to die here! This is unhuman!"

"You're unhuman with your weight!" groaned Tucker, while pulling at one of the shoulder pads. Wash was pulling at the other but he was pretty sure that didn't help so far.

"Fuck you! That was hard work!"

Simmons went to help by pushing his boyfriend. But Jesus Christi, that guy was heavy. Somehow that remembered Wash how he and South had to drag a majorly concussed Main back to the Pelican. That was about as bad as this, because Maine was a fucking mammoth.

"Really?! This here too! Gosh Grif, lose some weight, no wonder does Simmons top you all the time. You would simply crush him!"

Wash tended to think about the other Freelancers a lot lately and actually he was glad Tucker pulled him out of it. He just wished he wouldn't have given him that mental image.

"Come on guys, focus. And you, Grif, will be running laps from now on." Groaned Wash, also pulling with full force to pull Grif the last centimeters up while the orange soldier found a place to put his foot on.

"What?"

"You heard it. You're too fat. You're starting running laps. Or I'll make you." He was dead serious about that.

Tucker beside him snorted. "Believe me, he could be veeery persuading."

Wash only shot him an angry glare.

With another try they finally got Grif up enough so he could crawl over the edge. Wash and Tucker dropped back against a wall. Fuck his neck hurt again. "I completely understand Simmons why he's not allowing you to top him."

"Shut up." Breathed Grif in return. He was laying on his back, also breathing heavily.

"Captain Grif, you're so in for running laps." Wash said, his breath slowly returning to normal. It wasn't like he wanted the guys to ever reach his or Carolinas level. But really, some basic stamina and all was nothing they shouldn't be able to get.

"Do you want to kill me?!" Grif whined.

"Actually I'm helping you to not get killed by your own weight."

"You're crazy."

Wash shot Grif a glare. He knew it wasn't meant as an insult beyond their standards but he was kind of allergic to words like crazy or insane regarding him.

"Guys please, let's move." Interrupted Simmons with annoyance as he made it up to them too. Wash definitely could relate to his annoyance right now.

"Okay, then Grif goes first." Announced Tucker, waiting for Grif to stand up and take the lead.

"You guys really want to kill me." Tucker flashed the Hawaiian a grin. Payback for trying to eat him, you know.

"You can find it out in taking the lead. Now move." Also Wash seemed to be at the end of his patience. Which didn't really surprise Tucker.

Cursing and complaining, Grif began to enter the tunnel. It was not as big as the ones they went through so far. And soon they had to duck and a little later go on all four. Yeah, this was just great. Crawling through a fucking cave. There were about one hundred reasons in Tuckers mind why this was horrible. But one reason he just had to get out. You know, lighten the mood and all. "I want to change places with Simmons." the teal soldier complained loudly.

"Why that?" he heard the cyborg ask from the end of their line.

"Because you would like Grifs ass in front of your face. I don't."

Simmons was apparently even more prudent than Wash sometimes acted because he only sputtered. Grif however had to be an ass again. "You can be honest and say that you just want to look at Washs ass." Tucker felt his cheeks flush a little as he gasped indignantly.

"Okay, guys, I know that's your way of dealing with things but you are not going to have that kind of conversation."

"Oh, and why not, Wash?" Grif asked in a defiant voice, the glee obvious.

"Because I won't guarantee for anything if you do, okay?" Wash said in a dangerous tone and everyone fell silence.

The tunnel got even lower and they soon had to crawl. And occasionally push Grif. This really was horrible. But Tucker was also very thankful he had a power armor on. And most importantly was protected between his legs while he had to crawl on his stomach. "Oh god, I'm gonna die…" moaned Grif in front of him for what felt like the twentieth time. Wash behind him groaned. "C'mon Grif, that's something you do in basic. And even you made it through that."

"But that was ages ago!"

"Hey, do you guys hear that too?" Simmons asked suddenly and with that effectively stopped the argument. Tucker listened closely. There was the sound of… water flowing? "Uh, water? Wait, isn't that a good thing?"

"It is", Wash behind him said. "For one it means we wouldn't die of thirst if we were stuck here longer. And secondly, water in a cave usually flows out of it. So if we find the water and follow it, we probably find a way out."

"Oh, thank god. I think I have enough horrible experiences for a while now."

"Simmons, our live is full of horrible experiences. Especially since we have Freelancers around." Wash obviously choose to ignore Grifs insult. And finally the ceiling of the tunnel got higher again, allowing them one by one to stand up again. Tucker stretched his legs. Thank god!

They were in some kind of small cavity now. Behind them was the tunnel but they seemed to still be on some kind of platform and Simmons and Grif went to the edge in front of them. "Holy fuck!" the couple exclaimed in union. Curiously Tucker went over to the edge.

Actually, it looked great. They had a huge gave in front of them. Gigantic stalactites were hanging down from the ceiling. There was also a big hole in it and the sun shined in. Inside the cave was a waterfall on the right that filled a small lake directly under them. The water went further in form of a river to the left. The only problem…

"Shit, that's a long way down", Tucker stated. It really, really was a long way down. Wash joined them on the edge, looking down. "Well... with the lake down there it's not that bad. 17 to 20 yards maybe."

"You know how to encourage people, don't you?" Tucker grumbled, especially since the lake didn't really help him to feel better.

"I'm not going to jump" Simmons suddenly announced from where he stood at the edge. "I'm neither suicidal nor crazy."

"Simmons is right. 20 yards are _bad_, Wash."

Wash turned to face Grif with a raised eye ridge. "20 yards are nothing, trust me. Also, we do not really have a choice for that matter."

While Simmons considered this statement he stood with the back to the edge. Tucker knew it was a stupid idea. But he couldn't help it as he went over to the cyborg, holding his pam in his face. Simmons grumbled and automatically stepped back, over the edge. He fell with a high pitched scream and the next thing Tucker heard was him splash on the water.

Grif quickly hurried to the edge to look for Simmons. "I'm gonna eat you for that, Oreo." He said in a dead serious voice. Wash shot Tucker a glare as well. "That was a dick move" he snapped accusingly. Simmons meanwhile broke through the surface and the first he did was to yell. "You dick!"

Tucker only laughed as he watched him swim away. He probably should have been more careful, though.

"Fine. If we do it that way… " Wash said and before Tucker had time to react he felt how the Freelancer hit him on the back, hard. With a yelp not better than Simmons, the teal soldier was the next one to splash into the water.

"Uh" Grif started next to Wash, looking down. "You probably should go after him now."

"Why?"

"He can't swim."

Wash stood there and blinked, staring at Grif. "What do you mean, he can't swim!?" he asked, his voice taking the squealing tone again.

"He can't swim. Never learned it. He's gonna drown like a rock."

Wash stared for another heartbeat before he exclaimed. "Jesus fuck! Can_ you_ swim, Grif?!"

"Dude, I'm from _Hawaii_!" He returned almost offended.

"That's great!" Taking Grifs statement as a yes, Wash was about to shove him in too, just to make sure he would actually jump. But apparently he decided the situation was serious enough and jumped on his own. Wash stepped to the edge, waiting a moment until Grif was out of the way. Apparently it was save there so the Freelancer dived as well. After jumping out of a Pelican or from fucking huge building without a fallback plan this really was nothing.

Of course he heard Grifs warning but it still was fucking cold the moment he dived in the water. Their suits made sure to keep their core temperature normal and with that keep them from freezing to death. However, it took the armor some moments to adjust if the change in temperature was so sudden and extreme. It was already getting better when Wash broke through the surface, breathing. Their helmet prevented water from coming in normally. But that didn't mean you could breathe under water.

Quickly he looked around to see that Grif was helping Simmons. That seemed to work well. Tucker wasn't far from Wash gasping for air. He struggled desperately to stay over the water but failed more and more. Fuck! Sure they had to do this either way but if Wash knew about this he wouldn't have just pushed Tucker in!

The Freelancer hurried to swim to his teammate before the currents would carry him away more and more. "Tucker, relax!" Wash said as he maneuvered himself behind him. The Freelancers all knew the basics about pretty much everything you needed to know to keep yourself and your teammates alive. So he knew how to do live save.

Wash was behind Tucker trying to get an arm around his chest. But that was easier said as done with the teal soldier flailing around wildly, hitting him in the process. "Ow! Gee, Tucker, stop it!" Wash tried to say but all he got was more struggling and babbling incompressible words between sounds that sounded suspiciously like whimpering.

Oh shit. "Calm down, Tucker I- off! I can help you!" While the current was carrying them further and further Wash managed to get an arm around Tuckers chest, pulling the younger man closer. But he was still whimpering and struggling and kicking. "Jesus! Stop it!" It made it hard to on Wash to keep them over water and more than once he got downed too. Somewhere between the rushes of the water he heard Grif and Simmons laugh.

Wash briefly remembered North laughing at a similar scenario between York and live saving Florida during training. Okay, it probably really looked hilarious. But it wasn't. It was extremely straining to prevent himself and Tucker from drowning, especially since Tucker still was struggling and panicking. "I don't wanna drown" the younger choked out.  
"You won't if you calm down and trust me!" Wash hissed trying to tighten his grip as the younger struggled again. He heard Grif say something ahead of them but couldn't make it out in the noise here. The current was strong now and Wash was sure it was ridicules luck they didn't hit a boulder or anything so far.

And suddenly it was there. A flash of blending light before the visor adjusted to the new light condition. Finally out! Wash twisted his head while still fighting to not get drowned by Tucker. Somewhere ahead he saw how Grif helped Simmons out of the water on the shore.

Wash swam towards the shore too until he finally got solid ground under his feet. He moved back, more or less dragging Tucker with him and out of the water. It was somewhat clumsy and they stumbled. Wash fell on his back with Tucker atop of him both not moving for a few moments and just trying to catch their breaths.

Well, now that was a thing.

Wash still was panting but he could feel Tuckers fast heartbeat even with the armor. How he was shaking and still gasping for air while he had his head rested on Wash shoulder. "You are going to be the death of me one day, I swear" the older rasped out. He was still steading his breathing. That would probably be easier without Tucker on top of him. "Fuck, no…" Tucker muttered unusually quiet and shifted, as if to get comfortable. That, however, made Wash very uncomfortable.

"Eh" he muttered mindlessly, putting a hand on Tuckers back, between his shoulder blades. "Then better learn how to swim, for gods sake."

Suddenly Wash heard steps coming towards them. "Holy shit, are you guys okay? I thought you were going to drown!" Simmons babbled and Wash turned his head towards him. "Well… we still live" he said plainly what caused Tucker to snort tiredly. After a head injurie, so little sleep and this action, Wash just felt exhausted. He turned to his side then and rolled Tucker off him in the process. While Wash got back to his feet the younger still lay flat on his back, breathing.


	7. Another round of shot

**Chapter 7: Another round of ****shit**** shot**

Wash stepped a little away from Tucker to let him breathe but also to make a call as soon as the Radio picked up a signal again. Once more he examined his neck carefully. He took off his helmet then too for a moment. It wasn't like you actually could take in air better that way. You just felt like you could. "God damn it, why had this idiot to panic like that?" he muttered. Tuckers panicked punches actually hurt.

"Well…You pushed him into the water…" Wash turned half around to see Grif making an annoyed face behind the visor.

"I didn't know he couldn't swim!" Wash defended himself right away.

"Well in such situation that doesn't really count as an excuse. You pushed him in." At that Wash glared at Grif. Because of course it was an excuse! He surely wouldn't have pushed Tucker if he had any clue that the guy couldn't swim! What the fuck was with this guy?

"Besides, how should he calm down and trust you when he doesn't know a thing about you? Pretty hard to trust a guy you don't know absolutely fucking nothing about. I would panic too."

Wash momentarily regretted not wearing his helmet because he was pretty sure he was staring at Grif for a second or two. But the orange soldier only chocked his gun and went back to the other two. To be honest, it felt a little like a punch. It reminded Wash of his and Tuckers talk at the radio tower. With the difference that he felt frustrated and a tad irritated back then. Now he was more irritated and a tad frustrated. He also had the nonsensically urge to throw his helmet after Grif. Of course he didn't do that.

_What a fucking asshole. _

Was grimaced and looked at his twisted reflection on the visor. He knew they trusted and helped him when they had every reason not to. So what was with the comment now? It wasn't like he had any secrets from them. Nothing significant, at least.

A part of Washs mind knew Grif probably said that only because of the conversation he had with Tucker. Maybe.

_Deal with that later._ With a sigh Wash put his helmet back on and radioed for someone to pick them up.

_**ooo**_

Tucker was still laying on his back, stretched out. He was just breathing, calming down. Gosh, he really thought he was going to die. It was a while ago since he had been so fucking scared. Well, maybe not. When he saw how Felix detonated the platform where the others stood and stabbed him he had been terrified, too. Or when Locus showed up and Wash had been nowhere to be seen.

Still, Tucker was shaky from it even now. He almost drowned, the thought made a chill go down his back. In fact, he might as well have Wash drowned too, by flailing around like he did. That's what he realized now. But thanks to Wash Tucker didn't drown. Then again that ass had been the one who shoved him in the first place.

"Yo Tucker, you okay, pal?" he heard Grif ask.

"Have been better."

"Think so. You look like shit."

"Fuck you."

"No thanks, I have Simmons for that."

Tucker actually managed to smirk when Simmons started to sputter. He was even worse with this stuff than Wash. Tucker got up and pulled his helmet back on. He was still kinda shaky but hey. He felt about that way when he first run five laps around the fucking jungle.

"Radio and motion tracker are back online. I already asked for help at our position. They will come and get us. But we have a problem." Was announced as he came back to them.

"Which is? Do we get visitors?" Asked Tucker exhausted and annoyed. He wanted a break, god damn it.

"Approximately seven or eight. Let's get prepared to have the upper hand."

"Hold on, what do you mean by 'approximately'?" Simmons asked an octave higher than normal. Like always when he felt he was under pressure because people suspected him to do something.

"I've got six on the tracker. They might be here in a minute or two", Wash replied while he got his battle rifle ready. "But Tucker spotted eight of them earlier. Also, they might have gotten backup or cloaking device."

Tucker was pretty sure that meant they were pretty fucked. First of all they were majorly outnumbered. Then neither Simmons nor Grif were very good fighters actually. Grif was awesome in driving shit and Simmons was great with the rocket launcher but that didn't really help here. Tucker wasn't that bad actually but he didn't think he could deal with two real soldiers at once in a face to face. Wash probably could. Normally. But he was concussed and just as exhausted as the rest of them.

"So… what now?" Tucker asked. He hated responsibilities. He really did and was shitty with making decisions. He really rather relied on Wash. The Freelancer already looked around but out here, there was nothing but rocks and sand and dirt. Almost like the fucking desert. He walked over along the rock face to a small space between the wall and a huge boulder. Left and right was open space but other boulder around would make it hard for the enemies to see them. Wash crouched down behind it. He and Tucker would defend the right side if necessary and Grif and Simmons the left. "It's not good but the best we have right now", Wash said grimly. "We get backup from an outpost near here. They will be here in twenty minutes or half an hour. Our best chance is to just hold on until-"

Wash already got cut off when they heard people shout and just a second after there were bullets flying. Holy fucking shit! Tucker really wished he could use his energy sword right now as he tightened his grip on his rifle. He got to like the thing better. Wash leaned out from the cover, firing his rifle one handed but quickly moved back. "I see three from here. No heavy artillery" he said, strained.

"Is that supposed to be good?"

Grif actually found the courage too to peak around the boulder but jumped back against Simmons before he even fired a shot. "Uh. I see another three here and I think one of them has a fucking -" Grif was cut by the deafening sound of an explosion and Tucker felt how the boulder behind him was shaking. "Rocker launcher."

"I wish I had my rocket launcher, damn it", Simmons cursed under his breath.

"I wish I had a future cube!"

Wash moved out of cover now quickly, fired more shots but jumped right back and Tucker saw small pieces of stone chip off. "Fuck! Gazed" he hissed and Tucker stared at him. "You're hit!?" he yelped.

"No. I only gazed _him_. My aim's off. Fuck."

Tucker swallowed and took a deep breath. He got up then, only a moment to see and ducked right away before he would get a head shot or something. Okay. Second guy from the left had his right arm hanging down. Firing only… well, a type of gun you could use in one hand. With another deep breath Tucker got up again, his rifle already vaguely in the direction the guy was. He corrected his aim shortly, fired and saw the soldier stumble. He didn't see him fall because he already ducked back as bullets missed him closely. His heard was beating like crazy. Well, fuck it. He was not made for this that was why he was a god damn sim trooper. Then again he didn't knew there were things like that when he signed up. So in fact, Tucker actually did sign up for just that.

He was about to say something when a small, green thing landed between them. A grenade. "_Move!" _Wash yelled.

Moving out of cover with guys shooting at you wasn't a very good thing to do. But it was better than staying next to explosives. Tucker jumped behind another boulder with a yelp. He wasn't sure but he thought he saw Wash dodge behind one closer to the front. It was crazy. Tucker thought he was fucking glad he wasn't hit when he heard Simmons scream.

_Oh fuck, please don't!_

Tucker remembered Cunningham and Rogers. He didn't want more people fucking die around him. He cursed and moved out of his hideout. But from his position, he couldn't get a clear shot. Neither could they hit him, thought. The teal soldier leaped back to their previous cover which was half blown. Tucker stood, shooting at two of the Feds, getting one more down. But the other leaped behind a jeep in time. Fuck it! There were more and more of the guys coming!

"Tucker, help Grif defend Simmons!" Wash called over the radio. He was somewhere ahead firing at the enemy while dashing from cover to cover. He took out one Fed after another. How he could operate like this with his injurie was beyond Tucker but he really didn't have time to think about it.

When Grif shot another soldier Tucker leaped over to Simmons. He was really bleeding a lot and Tucker swallowed. He dragged the maroon soldier more behind the rock as careful as he could manage.

_Fuck, fuck, fuck!_

Tucker rolled Simmons on his back. He tried to ignore his pained whimper as he fumbled for the Biofoam he had left from treating Washs injury earlier. He heard Grif yell something but didn't understand the words in all the noise. "Dude, that's really not the time for you to die okay?" he babbled, hoping Grif could hold the line for a moment on his own while he covered Simmons wound with the foam. It wasn't enough to close it but it would slow down the bleeding for a while.

There was a flicker next to Tucker. It was intuition Tucker slowly got that made him realize the there was an asshole with cloaking device. He gripped the handle of his energy sword and tackled the guy, knocking him over. With one quick move Tucker struck his blade down where he supposed was the enemy's chest. He flickered for a moment before the now dead body appeared. Tucker stumbled back to his legs and was about to run over to Grif when a voice yelled to get down.

He let himself fall instinctively, only thinking _holy fuck_ when the ass with the rocket launcher shot something again.

Tucker only saw a flash of teal as Carolina speed past him, knocking two soldiers out with a few hard punches.

_**ooo**_

Wash did his best to defend himself and the other three. Simmons was down and he could only hope it wasn't a deadly injury.

But it really looked bad. If back up didn't show up soon… Wash had no time to finish the thought when he was tackled after shooting down another soldier, his rifle was knocked away. He struggled to get the guy down but his movements were too uncoordinated at the moment, to clumsy. He fumbled for his combat knife but froze instantly when he saw a barrel of a gun pressed against his visor.

No! He wasn't going to-

A shot was fired, the sound too loud in Washs ears. But it wasn't him that got a bullet through his brain but the soldier over him. Blood and other things you didn't want to know splashed and Wash kicked the dead body down. He stumbled on his feet, catching sight of Carolina who took down even more Feds. Wash just felt relived as he picked up his rifle to support her.

It had always been like that for him. No matter how fucked you were, if you could hold on until Carolina was there you would be fine.

So also this time. The Feds retreated soon because they knew they had no chance now that there was a fully capable Freelancer supported by an A.I around.

After they retreated, Epsilon was yelling insults after them and Carolina faced Wash, seeing that he was completely exhausted and panting. "Wash, are you alright?" She asked concerned.

"I'm still functional. Don't think I'm seriously hurt asides from a concussion", he managed to answer as his breath calmed down. "Simmons got hurt badly, though." Carolina nodded in understanding. "Medics were right behind me. They will be here soon. I'll order a ship to pick us up and secure the area with Epsilon. Go check on the others."

Wash quickly went over to the other three. He saw Tucker standing there awkwardly while Grif did his best to keep Simmons awake. But it was obvious how his consciousness was fading. But he also tried his best to focus on his boyfriend. Wash felt a little sick. He was sorry for them. But the wound was covered wit Biofoam and at the moment, that was all they could do.

Tucker walked over to him. "Are you okay?" he asked and somehow Wash thought he sounded a little off. He couldn't really name it thought. "Yeah. I'll be fine." Wash wasn't even sure himself why he always found himself saying this even though his whole body just ached. Maybe he was just used to say it. Or maybe 'fine' and 'alright' was the same as 'being functional' for him since a long time.

Tucker looked at him, then at Simmons and Grif. They already heard the jeeps come. It was only a matter of moments before the medics arrived and jumped out of the jeeps to run toward them and do what they could until the ship arrived. Tucker and Grif got off fairly well and Wash convinced them that he wasn't that bad of either. He didn't want anyone of them to look at his neck. In fact, he was kind of horrified to show it to Grey, too. But at least she knew for sure what she was doing, even if she was creepy.

The ship landed shortly after. Luckily the rebels and feds were at peace. Because the rebels didn't have any ships. Carolina went to the pilot right away, talking to him. The medics brought Simmons on board, closely followed by Grif then Wash and Tucker.

"You know" the teal soldier spoke up suddenly. "I'm really fucking tired of my friends getting shot." Wash turned to see Tucker standing, his head hanging and his shoulders hunched. Wash knew very well how he felt right now. But he also knew that this was war. Not everyone made it back in one piece. Or made it back at all. Tucker sighed and walked ahead. When he passed Wash the older looped his arm around Tuckers shoulder, pulling him close against his chest shortly. "We'll be fine", he said, finding himself unable to say something that sounded less like wish thinking. Tucker glanced at him and made an incoherent sound before they went on board.


	8. Another slap on the wrist

**Chapter 8: Another slap on the wrist**

The way back was short but quiet. Despite the medic assuring Grif that Simmons just looked much worse than he actually was, Wash had to go over and convince him to sit with them so he wouldn't get in the way. He knew how Grif felt, too. But still. It was best to sit back and let the medic do the work. Luckily the orange soldier seemed to understand that.

When they reached the capitol Simmons was brought away for surgery right away, Grey was going to take care of it personally since she was their self-appointer personal doctor or something. He, Grif and Tucker were patched up too by medics but they weren't seriously hurt. There was only Washs neck and the minor concussion but he insisted that Grey would look at it.

Sure she was giving him the creeps but since he was afraid that the implants might have been damaged he rather had someone look at it who he was sure was capable.

After that the three of them were waiting outside the operation room, sitting on an old bench. Grif on his right was nervous and barely managed to sit still while Tucker on his left was almost falling asleep. At some point he dropped his head against Washs shoulder. He was unmoving then and the Freelancer first stiffened then shifted slightly. Tucker only mumbled but didn't move away at all. With a heavy sigh, Wash decided to leave it by that.

Carolina left them so she could get Donut, Caboose and Sarge. Wash knew there would be mean comments as soon as Simmons was out of danger but that was their way of showing they cared. Wash remembered North and York saying that too when South or Carolina happened to be very charming once again.

Then, sooner that he expected Grey came out of the door. Her white armor was covered in blood. Dear lord, she looked like a slaughter man.

Grey took off her helmet and flashed theme wide grin. "Oh, don't worry, it's not my blood!" she said with a cheerful giggle. When she noticed that Grif had jumped up was staring at her she shrugged. "Eh, seems the joke is getting old", she said and Wash really wondered what was wrong with her.

"Wh-what happened? How is Simmons?" Grif babbled his question out. Wash saw his shoulders shake. Tucker shifted next to him, lifting his head a little. "Oh, your boyfriend is _fine_" Grey answered in a sing-sang voice. "He lost a lot of blood and wont wake up until tomorrow. But other that that he's good. He will have to stay in hospital for a few days before going to rest in his room. Just to make sure", explained the doctor further.

Wash felt himself and Tucker relax and Grif looked like he was ready to collapse from being so relieved. "Thank god" the orange soldier exhaled.

"Well, the shrapnel got right trough. That gives him two nice matching scars. But oh well, he has a lot of them so either way. Nothing important was hit. Almost a shame I couldn't take a closer look at him. He's interesting." Grey hummed.

"Well... I guess we were lucky again. Could have been worse, eh?" Tucker mumbled with his head still on Washs shoulder. "It could have been better, too." Wash returned and before Tucker could complain about him being pessimistic he said, "Which is why you get swimming lessons and Grif will be running laps from now on."

"You mean I have to swim instead of running laps?"

"You will do it additional to the other drills" Wash deadpanned, though he had to hide a smile. Tucker groaned dramatically.

"Hey, wait, that's unfair! Simmons is injured and I have to run laps instead of being with him?!" Grif suddenly exclaimed as the words seem to have sunk in on him.

"I'll be so nice to give you a few days grace", Wash said.

"Of course you will", Grey cut in as she stood in front of Wash, too close for his taste and leaning down. "Because you, Agent Washington, will stay in bed for a few days" announced the doctor and Wash blinked at her as she moved to cast a glance at his neck. "My, my, you do have a tendency to get hurt, don't you? Now get up and come with me so I can take a look at your pretty little-"

"Please don't say anything creepy" Wash said flatly but shrugged Tucker off to get up and follow the Grey, leaving the other two soldiers alone.

"Fuck… what a bullshit" Tucker muttered, glancing over to Grif. "Hey, you okay so far?" Tucker was about the other soldier. They were friends, despite being assholes towards each other. And Tucker knew how Grif must feel now. Seeing people getting shot was fucking bad already. Especially if these people were friends. Or, you know, lovers.

"Yeah, I guess so. I'm just… I feel just completely tired. And you?"

"About the same here. I'm just ready for some decent sleep." Tucker returned groggily and leaned his head back against the wall. He didn't sleep before. Not really at least. And he just felt like crashing down.

"You're saying it. How about Wash? How is he?" Asked Grif. Tucker couldn't help but snort as he cracked his eyes open to look at the other again.

"How am I supposed to know?" he said tired and frustrated. "I'm neither him nor do I know him." Or at least lately it felt like that lately. Tucker didn't really know. Wash was confusing him a lot.

"Yes, that's true. But you're around him more than I am. So how are you estimating his health?"

Tucker shrugged without much energy in it. He wanted to go home but he would wait for Wash. Also, Grif probably could use some company until he was allowed to see Simmons. "He said he's fine. Then again he always says so. Dunno. It's hard to tell in his case when he's laying and when he's saying the truth. But you know, he didn't pass out or anything so far so I guess he'll be okay with a little rest. He's tough."

Tucker remembered very well how Wash looked after the fight with the Meta and Tex. Pretty fucked up, to say it simply. There was a moment of silence and Grif dropped back on the bench next to Tucker.

"Hey Grif?" the younger asked and waited a moment. He felt kinda stupid by asking that. "It's probably stupid but… You think we should have gone back when the radio gave out on us?"

Grif turned his head to look at Tucker, his brows furred. They both didn't were the helmet and Grif looked about as shitty as Tucker felt. "What do I know? Maybe the Feds would have gotten us then and we'd be dead now. That would be worse", he deadpanned. "But what does it matter? We can't change that yet."

It was surprising how many smart things Grif said lately. But Tucker still made a face a sour face. "Yeah, yeah, Wash keeps telling me that, too." Though, honestly, sometimes Tucker thought that he maybe said it more to himself.

"But... I mean, don't you ever wonder... what if I did this different? Or if I was smarter or better or paid more attention?"

"Didn't you just say he also tells you not to think about past stuff too much?"

Again Tucker grimaced. "Yeah… but don't you do that too? You know, about you and Simmons and stuff. "

Again Grid shrugged. "Sure. Sometimes. But he's gonna be fine so better think about that instead of the rest" he said almost easily. That caused Tucker to stare at him for a few long moments. "Dude, when did you turn into an optimist?" And that was the moment when Tucker wondered when they exchanged Grif for an alien. "Look, you'll never know what would might have happened if you did it on one or the other way. Because you did what you thought would be the right thing in this moment. So stop thinking about it. Or you'll end up going crazy because thinking about the when and ifs." Said Grif. Tucker really, really wondered since when he was so smart. Because he probably was right. Still, it wasn't so easy not to think about it. Trying to do the right thing wasn't easy either. It sucked.

Before he and Grif were able to continue their talk however the medic appeared with Simmons on a stretcher. Grif was up and at his side right away. Tucker rarely saw him getting up so fast. While Grif was asking them stuff, Tucker sunk back against the wall. He was just fucking relived. Because you know, they all were still alive.

"Get some rest. You look like a zombie. And don't think too much about this stuff. You'll only be overburdening your brain." Grifs words pulled Tucker back to the present and he gave his friend a snort. Grif wasn't that bad, really. He was pretty much okay – for a Red.

"At least I have one."

"Yeah, yeah, whatever." Grif didn't bother to return anything more to the insult than that. He was busy to go after the medics and Simmons. Tucker waved at him tiredly. He was so up for crashing into bed. But he decided to wait up for Wash. Though, while sinking lower in the bench Tucker guessed it wouldn't matter if he took a nap here already. But the teal soldier only closed his eyes when he already heard Tucker call out for him. He blinked his eyes open with effort to look up at the blonde man in front of him. "Is Grif already gone?

"Uh? Oh, yeah. He went with the medics when they brought Simmons in a room."

"I see we don't have to wait for him then, I guess." They both knew Grif would probably stay with his boyfriend for a while.

"So… how are you? Your neck okay?" Tucker asked the Freelancer. He also got up, stretching his limbs again and immediately regretting it. Now he wished he actually was a zombie because he was sure this would hurt far less. Fuck, his whole body was one aching bruise.

"Like I said, I'm fine" he replied and rolled his eyes, though his voice held no annoyance at all. "I have a minor concussion and that's the worst of it. My neck is patched up and thank god Grey didn't need stitches. I'm just supposed to stay in bed and take it easy and all."

Tucker could guess that Wash about had had it with the whole stay in bed and take it easy thing. He wasn't the kind of guy to sit put and he already had to do that a while after the battle with Locus.

"You know… it's not that bad" Tucker said as they were on the way to the exit what earned him a curious glance. "You can also take it easy in bed, if you know what I mean." He just couldn't help it, it was in his nature to say it and wiggle his brow meaningfully. Wash narrowed his eyes at him. "You can also run a few laps if you aren't tired enough yet, if you know what I mean."

Tucker shut his mouth just the moment the left the hospital. Because, yeah, he knew what Wash meant. "Okay, never mind. Let's just go home and crash in bed right away."

The both weren't wearing their helmet on the way home and Tucker thought he caught Wash smirk out of the corner of his eyes. "In that case you will definitely sleep in your own bed."

So it wasn't like they were sleeping on the same bed all the time. Sometimes they just did, sometimes they didn't. There was no rule or system or anything to it. No asking and no inviting either. But so far Wash never told Tucker straight he wasn't allowed to sleep in his bed to. Well, at least not right away. He got kicked out twice so far because apparently he had been a little too intrusive.

"Why?" It wasn't hard to fake whining when you felt like shit already.

"Because you stink" Wash said bluntly. Tucker almost stumbled over a rock because he was staring at the older instead the street. Because, what the fuck?

"Say what!?"

"You stink."

"Dude, of course I do after that shit!" Tucker shrieked. "You sink, too!"

"Yeah, I know. Which is why I'll have a shower first."

Tucker shot Wash a glare. "You asshole", he said thought with little annoyance. Wash looked as tired as they all did. But this time Tucker was sure he caught him smirk for a moment. "Well, how about we shower-"

"Tucker, do you know that you have a terrible split-second timing?"

It probably wasn't the way you should deal with the aftermath from almost being killed and stuck in a fucking cave but Tucker always found some comfort in bickering. It meant things weren't that bad. Usually. "Hey, my playmates always told me I have a-"

"That I's exactly what I'm talking about."

With a sigh the younger decided not to push Wash now. He was also exhausted and apparently only in the mood for so much nonsense from his teammate.

"Hey Wash?" Tucker asked almost slyly once they almost reached the house. "Can I at least shower first?"

There was a pause and Wash looked at him before he exhaled. "Fine."

* * *

**Authors Note:** And that was the story of four guys and their adventure in the cave. Alaska and I already are working on a sequel to this that is actually half finished by now. They are dealing with more… interpersonal shit there. Hehe.


End file.
